Chapter Twenty-One

Edward was worried about Anna. Although he tried to interest her in working with him at the shipyard, she refused to go anywhere near the remains of the pub. The banns had been read the requisite number of times, but she had made no preparations for their wedding. Instead, she went through the motions of daily life, helped Mrs. Graham in the kitchen, cared for Zachary, but the rest of the day she walked to the cliffside, sat under a tree, and stared out over the water. She would spend hours there, just sitting. Her hair lost its luster, her eyes their sparkle. Edward had no idea what to do, beyond hugging her close at night. They shared a bed, much to the Grahams’ displeasure, but Edward didn’t care. It was the only time Anna seemed alive. She made love to him every night with a fervor and intensity Edward found both exciting and a bit disturbing, given how different she was during the day.

Zachary, on the other hand, proved to be remarkably resilient. Edward had ordered a new violin for him and a small spinet for himself, and they played together most evenings in the Grahams’ sitting room, which now passed for a parlor. Edward delighted in the time he spent with his son. Zachary was an intelligent, lively boy, who was eager to learn whatever life had to offer. Unfortunately, even Zachary’s valiant efforts failed to stir his mother. She smiled at him, pressed a kiss onto his forehead, and then sat staring into the fire.

Edward and Zachary rode into Wallsend every morning, Zachary heading to school and Edward to his office. The constable had made no progress on finding John Baxter’s killer and concluded that the fire that consumed Anna’s livelihood was accidental, a spark from the fireplace in the kitchen. Edward knew it was Weston, but the constable refused to investigate.

Weston had been conspicuously absent from the village for weeks, which to Edward’s mind only made the man look more guilty. Edward wondered what he was doing and what mischief he would get up to next. At least, Edward thought, Anna was safe from him.

One morning he was sitting in his office going over the latest order when his clerk announced Austin, who had been in Newcastle for the past week visiting one of his many siblings. Edward shook his hand and gestured for him to sit in the chair in front of the desk.

“Austin! Welcome back. How is your sister?”

“She is well, thank you, my lord. The new bairn is a bit of a handful, but nothing she can’t handle.”

“I am glad to hear it.” Edward filled him in on the latest news at the yard. After they were finished, he expected Austin to leave, but the man sat there, his forehead wrinkled with concern. “What’s the matter?”

“My sister’s husband and I spent an evening in a pub close to the docks, and I chanced to overhear something of interest. One of the patrons said Weston has opened a new shipyard and has been hiring workers. I made some inquiries the next day, and it is quite true. Weston claims to have plans for a ship that looks very like the one we designed—you remember, the plans went missing the night Baxter was killed?”

“I remember. Perhaps the constable will find this evidence intriguing?”

“I wouldn’t expect so. I saw the constable last evening, when I returned from Newcastle. He was checking a brand new pocket watch every few minutes, as if wanting to show it off, and he wore a new leather overcoat. He could never afford either of those things on his police wages. I think Weston paid him to look the other way.”

Edward tamped down his anger. “Perhaps we should call Scotland Yard?”

“Begging your pardon, my lord, but why would they care?”

Edward sighed. “You’re right, of course. Calling on the constable’s supervisor would also have no effect—he’s related to Weston, I believe. I shall write to my brother-in-law. Perhaps he will have some notion of how to proceed. Although I think we can easily weather the presence of a competitor, I can’t let Weston get away with murder.”

“How are Miss Templeton and young Zachary? Have the police discovered who set the fire?”

“You and I both know who set the fire, Austin. But the police are looking the other way there as well. I received word yesterday that they believe it was an accident and refuse to investigate further. But if you ask me, there have been entirely too many fires in this family for it to be coincidence.”

Austin raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that Weston set the fire that killed your parents?”

“There’s no proof of that, of course, but I am starting to wonder. The man did greatly benefit from the tragedy, after all.”

Austin stood. “If you require anything from me, my lord, you know you need only ask. But I should get back to work.”

Edward thanked him, then turned in his chair to watch the activities in the yard. Men were hard at work. There were plenty of orders for ships, and the business was doing well. But Edward could not help but fear what might happen next.

****

Anna knew she was spiraling into a depression she might not ever be able to shake. The nights spent alone with Edward were the only thing that made her feel anything at all. The constable had visited the day before to inform her the fire was accidental, but Margret swore it could not have been. Anna knew in her heart Weston had set the fire, in retaliation for her rejection, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty that her actions had set his plan in motion, even as the more rational side of her brain told her she could not be held responsible for the acts of a madman.

She had just ventured out to her spot under the tree, when she spotted a figure coming toward her. It was a woman, with dark hair that whipped in the wind, but Anna had trouble making out her features. She turned and waited, peering closely until recognition flickered.

“Theodora?”

“Anna!” Edward’s sister rushed to her and pulled her into a strong embrace.

“But…I thought you were in your confinement?”

“I was. The baby was born a month ago, a strong healthy lad who looks very like Edward, although my husband insists on saying he looks like me. I know Edward will be furious that I didn’t write, but when he wrote to me about the fire, I didn’t want him to abandon you to come to see me. I decided to bring the baby to see all of you, although it took some effort to convince Jonathan.”

“Jonathan. Your husband?”

“Yes. He will be cross if I stand out here for too long—it’s quite cold, don’t you think?”

Anna suddenly felt the chill seeping into her bones. She had been coming here every day for weeks and had never before felt cold. She smiled at Theodora, and slipped her hand into hers. “Let’s go inside.”

In the house Anna was introduced to Dora’s husband, sitting at the kitchen table piled high with tea and biscuits. Mrs. Graham held a bundle of blankets, a thatch of black hair poking out and a happy gurgling noise emanating from within it.

“Anna, dear!” Mrs. Graham held out the bundle. “Meet your nephew, Peter Jedidiah Tenwick.”

Anna took the baby into the crook of her arm, her other hand stroking his soft cheek. She looked up at Dora with some amusement. “He does look like Edward! He’s the spitting image of Zachary when he was a babe.”

Lord Caxton stood and draped an arm across his wife’s shoulder. “If I were the jealous type, I’d wonder if I had anything to do with his creation.” Dora poked him, and he laughed. “I recall the evening quite well, my darling. Never fear.” He gave her a saucy wink, and Dora blushed.

“He’s beautiful, Dora. I’m so very happy for you.” She handed the baby to Dora and curtsied to her husband. “I am pleased to meet you, my lord.”

Lord Caxton grasped her hand and pulled her up. “You are family. There’s no need to stand on formalities.” Anna was struck by how handsome he was; as fair as Dora was dark, but with a twinkle in his eye that matched that of his wife. They were clearly happy and obviously in love with each other. Anna felt a little bit jealous.

“Does Edward know you’re here?”

“Not yet. We wanted to surprise him. He wrote to me a few days ago, and we thought it best to respond in person.”

Anna frowned. Edward hadn’t told her that he was going to write to his brother-in-law, and she had no idea why he would.

“Did he inquire about the baby?”

“Yes, he did, but he also had some business items he wanted to discuss.” Jonathan seemed to avoid her gaze, which made Anna wonder what exactly had been going on while she was lost in her fog these last few weeks.

Just then Zachary came bounding into the kitchen, stopping short with a squeak of his heels as he spotted the newcomers. “Who are you?”

Anna grimaced. “You have no manners whatsoever, have you?”

Dora laughed and held out her hand. “I am your aunt Dora.” She gestured behind her. “This is your uncle Jonathan. And this is your cousin, Peter.” She held the bundle out to Zachary, who peered at the baby swaddled inside. The baby opened his eyes then—a vibrant blue just like his father’s—and smiled.

Zachary’s eyes widened and he grinned. “He likes me!”

Anna laughed. “Of course he does. What’s not to like?”

“May I hold him?” Zachary looked from his mother to his newfound aunt.

“Sit down first, then hold out your arms.” Zachary did as Dora instructed, then Dora put the baby in his lap. Little Peter cooed and gurgled, the happiest of babes, while Zachary watched, transfixed.

Watching her son with his young cousin did something to Anna. The fog she had been in lifted entirely, and she turned to Theodora and hugged her. “Thank you. Thank you so much for coming. You have no idea what it means to me to see you again.”

Dora smiled. Anna had the feeling she knew exactly what it meant, but she said nothing.

“Zach! You forgot…” Anna watched Edward walk in carrying Zachary’s book bag, watched his eyes take in the scene in front of him, his entire family filling the small kitchen. A whole host of emotions flickered across his face. Then he turned to Anna, and she smiled at him, her first genuine smile since the fire. His features relaxed, and he dropped the bag, brushed past his unexpected relatives, and grasped Anna’s face in his cold hands. “Welcome back.”